Can't Be Happening
by Misfit Writer
Summary: Set after Bravo Team deploys to Mexico but before they come home. Naima confronts Stella after seeing Clay's reaction to their conversation, making her reconsider her decision to end things with Clay. Before she is able to reach him, though, things go horribly wrong. Features confrontation between Jason and Ash as requested by Shelly88. Cross-Posted on AO3 & Tumblr
1. Chapter 1

This is part one of six that incorporates a BadThingsHappenBingo prompt and a request by Shelly88. There seems to be a divide regarding Stella...personally, I was hoping they'd work out, partly because I've been the new girlfriend struggling to fit into/adapt to military life. So part of this is also my fix-it for Stella's character in general...and is set before the boys return from Mexico, obviously. Little bit more language in this one.

**Fandom:** SEAL Team

**Characters:** Clay Spenser, Stella Baxter, BRAVO Team, Naima Perry

**Prompt:** Hostage Video

* * *

Every step that Clay Spenser took away from his car, towards the plane, sent a stab of grief through Stella's heart. Guilt tore at her stomach; here he was heading off to deployment, and she'd just ripped the rug out from beneath his feet. Once he was out of sight the brunette took several steadying breaths, wiping the tears from her eyes, and moved around the car to the driver's side door that he'd left open. This was _not_ how she'd wanted things to go…

The movement of her - _Clay's_ \- passenger door opening and someone sliding into the car startled Stella from her thoughts, and she sighed heavily as Naima shut the door once again. "What's going on, Stella?"

"Nothing, I'm just upset that he's deploying, always makes me emotional," Stella lied, hands clenching around the steering wheel. The older woman watched her silently for a long moment, and Stella forced herself not to squirm.

"I might not have known Clay for long, but I've never seen him look _that_ dejected, and him heading to deployment like that worries me. So I'm going to ask you again, what's going on?"

Despite the gentle tone of her voice, Stella could feel the tension rolling off of Naima. There was no getting out of this conversation. "I...I just...I don't know how to do this anymore. I don't know how to handle the fear...first it was the cave-in, then the helicopter crash, then he was shot and had to watch Adam die in the same night." Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and she shook her head. "I can't bear the thought of life without him...but I can't handle the stress of waiting for a phone call any time that he leaves. I was...I was trying to keep it together, push through it until he got home, but...Clay has always been able to read me like a freaking book, and you know how they are once they get something in their heads. He just wouldn't let it go. The last thing I wanted was for him to ship out with this weighing on him."

Naima ran a hand over her face, watching the plane prepare for takeoff. "I can't sugarcoat how bad this is, Stella...sending him out with a destroyed sense of hope means he might function with less self-preservation and might end up taking more risks." The statement made Stella nauseous, and she couldn't hold back a sob. Naima settled a hand on her shoulder. "I know that the guys have unbelievably dangerous jobs, but Stella, no one knows when their time will come. Clay could come home and be killed by any number of things here at home...Alana's death is proof enough that life is too short to waste what little time we have with the ones we love. You say that you can't bear the thought of life without him...but are you truly willing to _choose_ life definitely spent without him because of the _possibility_ of something happening to him?" The older woman was silent for a moment, gaze steady and intense as she let her words sink in. "You are strong, independent...I never expected that you would allow fear to stand in your way. And I have to apologize; I feel like things may have been different if we'd been more accepting."

Stella furrowed her brow in confusion. "W-what?"

"Bravo Team is the best because of their bond. When a new member is brought in, particularly a rookie from Green Team like Clay, it takes time for the family to fully accept them...until we know that they are not going anywhere. Spouses are challenging all on our own...we are the ones that keep each other together while our men are gone. We are the ones that coordinate babysitting, appointments, things like that when the husbands are gone...and whatever they need when they come home. It was especially tough for you because of how fresh your relationship was with Clay." She paused, dropped her gaze to her hands with a wry smile that had fresh tears falling down Stella's cheeks. "Still...I can tell you that boy would marry you in a heartbeat if you let him."

The younger woman gave a tearful laugh. "Yeah...yeah he would. After his first close call, when the floor caved in under his feet, he proposed to me in the hospital room. He meant it...he was so _sure_...and that terrified me. After Alana's wake, I saw the look in his eyes, that he was getting in deeper, and felt like maybe it was okay with me. I felt like I was able to fit into the family that day…"

"And then he almost died," Naima murmured. Stella nodded, covering her eyes with a shaking hand as the sobs threatened to take over again. "I can't make the decision for you, Stella, and I don't begrudge you your fears about this life. Just know that if you change your mind, if you decide to stay, I will make sure that we are more intentional to bring you into our family, to prove to you that you're not alone in this. Ever. All you need to do is call me, okay? Take care, Stella."

Just like that, Stella was left alone in Clay's car again. Sobs finally started to wrack her body, and she laid her forehead on the steering wheel as all of her emotions crashed over her.

* * *

A week of wrestling over her choice and a failed call to Clay found Stella at the bar where she first met him, nostalgic and antsy to talk to him. "Here, Stel, drink." Amelia pressed a shot glass into her hand, and Stella obeyed immediately, a smile tugging at her lips. "No thinking about...anything other than alcohol tonight. That was the deal, right?"

Finally looking up at her best friend, she nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Oh, shit...Buck, turn that up will ya?" The holler from further down the bar startled both women, and Stella looked up to the television to see two large Hispanic men holding the arms of a hooded captive. As soon as she registered what was playing she turned away, horrified by the fact that a POW hostage video was being broadcast for the world to see...and terrified that she might know the victim. "Fuckin' bastards," the man growled. Stella heard the Spanish coming from the speakers and numbly found herself imagining that it was just a random video and Clay was beside her, translating for her with that cocky grin that said _yeah, I know you think it's hot that I speak six languages, so of course I'm going to use that to my advantage whenever I can_.

When that all-too-familiar voice joined the Spanish-speaking one, this time as a grunt of pain, Stella's world threatened to come down around her. Amelia gasped and grabbed her arm. "S-Stella…"

_No. Nope, nuh uh...that's not Clay._ Despite her mind outright refusing to believe that it was true, it was in fact his piercing blue eyes staring defiantly at the camera, hair a mess from the hood they'd just dragged from his head and chest heaving as he steadied himself on his knees. Blood caked the side of his face from an injury somewhere in his hairline. The scrolling subtitles might as well have been in Spanish too for all the sense they made to her...all Stella could see was Clay's eyes, clear and proud despite the beating they'd clearly given him. The first time they punched him on screen, hard across the jaw, tears blurred her vision. Amelia grabbed her shoulders and turned her away from the screen. Men all around the bar began muttering curses, many recognizing the SEAL as well.

"C'mon, let's go outside, you can't watch this," Amelia murmured, her own voice thick with tears. Stella shook her head, torn between feeling like running away would be abandoning him in what could be his last moments and not wanting his murder to be burned into her memory forever.

"I can't...God, this can't be happening…" The alcohol and bar food turned in her stomach when he grunted again, and Stella ran for the bathroom, making it just in time before she was violently sick. Amelia's soothing voice drifted past the ringing in her ears, and suddenly she couldn't catch her breath.

"Come on, Stell...up, you need to get some fresh air to calm you down. Clay's strong, he's stubborn, no way is he going out like this." Her friend continued to ramble in her ear as she wiped her face with a wet paper towel and then they made a beeline for the door, avoiding listening to or looking at the screen. The night air was crisp and helped ease the hyperventilating, but she leaned back against the brick wall for support nonetheless.

Tinny music from her purse startled both girls, and Stella pulled out her cell phone. Without hesitating she answered it, grief hitting her full-force. "Naima…" The name came out as a sob, and Stella couldn't bring herself to be embarrassed.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you. Trish is coming to get the kids and I'm not letting you be alone until we know he's okay. Is there anyone with you right now?"

Questions to answer were good...helped ground her...and 'until we know he's okay' means he wasn't killed...right? "I'm...I'm at the bar near base with my best friend. _God_, Naima...I just tried to call him this afternoon, and he wasn't available. What if this is my fault? What if he doesn't know…"

"Stella, you can't focus on the what-if's, do you hear me? This is on those assholes that took him...soon to be _dead_ assholes if the rest of Bravo has anything to say about it. I'm about fifteen minutes out, I'll be there as soon as I can, just sit tight, okay? Don't let them keep replaying that damned video...the news has it on loop. If Buck hasn't already changed it, have your friend make them, okay? You don't need to keep watching Clay suffer and neither do they. I'll be there soon."

Stella stared at the phone for a long moment, numb shock taking over until Amelia took it from slack fingers. "Do you want to go back inside or wait out here? I'm going to go get our jackets and settle the tab."

"I can't go back in there," she whimpered. Amelia nodded and drew her in for a tight hug, starting fresh tears all over again. When her friend pulled back, Stella eased herself to the ground with her back to the wall and waited for her to return. While she was alone, flashes of her life with Clay played across her mind, and the roiling fear that she'd never get to fix things with him began to turn her stomach once more, until a hand settled onto her shoulder gently.

"I'm back. Buck didn't charge us anything, wanted me to tell you they're all sorry that you had to see that...and that he's still alive. They're holding him for ransom. The guys all seemed confident that his team would get him out of there." Amelia's warmth settled down alongside her, shoulders pressing together. "Talk to me, Stell, what can I do?"

The question forced a near-hysterical laugh from her chest. "I can't even begin to tell you...uh," she sniffed, wiping tears from her cheeks. "C-can you call Gordon in the morning and tell him I need some time? I'll talk to him when I can get my head around this just…"

"Done. Naima's picking you up, right?"

Stella gave a ghost of a smile. "Yeah...she's not going to let me out of her sight until Clay comes home, I'm sure." The smile trembled; _whether in a box or on a stretcher_, she thought to herself. In that moment, though, she knew. Without a doubt, she knew that she couldn't bear the thought of not knowing what was happening to him unless it showed up on television, couldn't imagine not helping get him back on his feet if he did make it home...and if he did, couldn't image not making the most of every single second she was given with him. She looked up at Amelia and was grateful that her best friend understood that there was part of her life that was just _different_, and didn't begrudge her for it. Without any more words, she leaned her head on Amelia's shoulder and waited.

When Naima arrived, the older woman jumped out of the car and pulled her into a tight hug before hugging Amelia as well and asking if she was okay. Once her friend was sure Stella was in good hands, she said her goodbyes and promised to get her car home safely. Naima gently guided Stella to the passenger side, waiting until she was seated and buckled before closing the door and climbing into the driver's side herself. "I'm not going to ask you if you're okay, because I know you're not right now. I don't know what's going to happen, but I can tell you that as soon as your boy gets home, you need to tell him how you feel right now. I can see in your eyes that you've made your decision...and I _promise _you will be able to tell him, because he _will_ come home...because that's what our boys do."


	2. Chapter 2

"Why the hell are we not going after these sons of bitches _right fucking now_?! Did we not all just watch the same _fucking_ video?! Clay doesn't have time for us to twiddle our thumbs and wait for the cake-eaters to _weigh the costs_ of going after one of our own!" Sonny paced restlessly, images of his brother being manhandled by Doza's men replaying across his mind.

Jason stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder and steady stare. "We can't just go in guns blazing and expect him to still be alive when we make it to him, Son...we need to figure out exactly where he is and what we are going to do before we can get him back. Let's focus on that in the meantime, deal with the red tape if it's still there when we have a plan, yeah?" Sonny held his gaze for a long moment before relenting. Jason nodded and turned back to the computer screen with a steadying breath. "We need to watch it again. Captain, I need your men to identify anything that can help us determine where they are." He turned to Davis and Mandy. "You don't need to stay in here for this…"

Despite the tears in their eyes, both women stood firm. "Not going anywhere, Bravo One," Davis murmured. Sonny found himself wanting to reach out to take her hand, both to give and take comfort as the hostage video featuring their youngest teammate began to play from the beginning. Even before they pulled the hood off, the Texan could read the tension in Clay's posture, could hear the hitch in his breathing. Not to mention the blood staining his white _Mexico_ shirt meant to cast him as a tourist. Even before the bastards started filming, they'd done a number on the kid.

And yet, once the hood was removed and he was forced to his knees, he refused to give any sign of faltering. Even when they punched him multiple times and yanked his head back by his sweat-matted curls, Clay refused to cower or beg for help. When the video first came to their attention, the Mexican Marine captain had translated for them, relating Doza's demands for money, release of cartel leaders, and their immediate departure from the country. Watching it again, seeing the abuse his brother was suffering _for him_, spiked Sonny's rage once again, and he turned and punched the nearest wall. Trent pulled his arm back before he could strike again, and restrained him against his own chest.

"Easy, brother, this isn't going to help Clay. We'll get the chance to make these assholes pay for this, we'll bring our boy home, but if you break your hand you're not going to be able to do much good for him. Hold off on letting out that anger til we're face to face with Doza and his men." After a few steadying breaths, Sonny backed down and forced himself to sit down. Brock squeezed his shoulder, and they all turned to the local force as the video ended.

"This is a building in the center of Doza's territory. It will be very difficult to get to your man without him being alerted to your presence, and then your man will be killed anyway."

"That's not gonna cut it," Jason replied, anger simmering just under the surface. "How do we get to this son of a bitch and get my man out?"

"He has eyes everywhere, Master Chief. I'm sorry, I do not believe that it will be possible."

"The brass Stateside isn't going to green-light the rescue if we don't have some kind of plan, Captain. We don't need much of a chance...we just need _something. _Please," Mandy implored as the men grew more agitated and restless. She took a slow breath, knowing her next words would not go over well with them. "He deserves for his brothers to bring him home, whether this is going to be a rescue or a recovery." At that, Davis ducked out of the command center. No one could deny her statement, though...they'd all seen the blood on Clay's face, the tension and awkwardness in his posture that only they would recognize as signs of agony. If they didn't get to him fast, Clay Spenser would not survive his captivity, no matter how stubborn he was mentally.

* * *

The young SEAL in question was dragged from unconsciousness by the persistent stabbing pain of his abused muscles being strained, chained overhead until his now-bare feet barely touched the ground. They'd used him for a ransom video for the American government, which he knew would have the guys up in arms. As he hung..._wherever_ they were, Doza's men shouted demands at him in Spanish; questions about Naval intelligence, border protection weaknesses..._the ususal_.

"Please," he whimpered, emphasising his pain and exaggerating his desperation. "I don't know what you're saying...I don't know what you want. I...I'm just a tourist…"

One of the men was suddenly in his face, and reached around to grab his hair roughly when the blonde flinched away. "You were awfully calm during our little message for _just a tourist_."

"I-I couldn't understand a word you were saying, and it hurt to even _breathe_, man...I didn't want to make it worse! I'm sorry, I don't know what you want from me...please just let me go!" Fresh pain erupted across his cheek as his captor punched him again, and it took everything in Clay not to bite out a sarcastic comment.

"I don't believe you. My friends here don't believe you." The man stepped back and drew a long serrated-edged knife. "If you don't give us answers, you are going to die a very painful death. Do you understand me?"

Clay summoned as much fear as he could, and tears burned his eyes. _Well shit, this is gonna hurt…_"Please! Please, no, I don't know what I could possibly tell you!"

"You were with US military agents working with the Marinas. Tell me where there are weaknesses at your borders!"

"I wasn't, I swear! I'm just on vacation from grad school! Nonono please-" The blade didn't hurt so much as it sank into his right flank just under his ribcage. No...it was the catching of the serrated edge as it was drawn back out that had Clay crying out and ready to sink into oblivion again.

"Oh no, my friend, you do not get to escape just yet. Tell me where your team is and I will end your suffering quickly." Clay sobbed through the pain, grateful for his 'innocence' cover giving him the excuse not to play tough. _Hopefully my team is getting your sorry sonofabitch boss Doza and this isn't for nothing…_

* * *

Jason looked up when Blackburn slammed the phone down, anger and frustration evident on his face before the Lieutenant Commander dragged his hand over it. "There is no way in hell they denied us going after Clay," Hayes growled. All eyes turned to the officer, who sighed heavily.

"They are saying the usual...we do not negotiate with terrorists and our team is too close to get him out without letting things get personal."

"Any team they send would make it personal," Brock muttered, petting Cerberus to calm himself down. "Friggin' cake-eaters don't understand the concept of brotherhood." He looked up around the room. "So how are we going to do this?" Sonny and Trent nodded, and Ray leaned against the desk with forced calm.

"Blackburn, if you need to leave for plausible deniability-"

"Like hell I'm going anywhere," Eric snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "By the time they would send another team down, if they even plan to, Spenser would probably be dead. We are going after him now, and we will deal with repercussions later. Captain." He turned, surprising his Mexican counterpart. "What do we have?"

"You are going to disobey your superiors?" Garcia questioned.

"As I said, there is not time to wait for a new team to arrive, and my men are considered the best for a reason. We do not leave any teammate behind under any circumstance." The Mexican Captain looked to each of the Americans for a long moment before nodding with a grim smile.

* * *

"You know the guys would never leave you behind. They'll come for you soon, baby...you've just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay? Stay with me. I'm right here." The comforting, familiar scent of Stella's shampoo filled Clay's nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle into her hand, warm and comforting on his cheek.

The second he shifted his head, though, agony seized his entire body, and the young SEAL was jarred back to reality. Stella...Stella wasn't with him. _Thank God for that_, Clay thought to himself. Even though it hurt to remember that Stella had broken things off with him before they'd shipped out to Mexico, the thought of her being with him in this hell-hole made him nauseous.

Or maybe that was the hole in his gut, the probable concussion, the fact that his arms were screaming at him as his feet began to cramp trying to hold his weight on his toes. He knew without a doubt that his brothers would come for him, but found himself beginning to doubt that they'd make it in time for a rescue. The blood soaking his side was enough for him to worry about, and explained how lightheaded he was. If he was hallucinating, though..._must be closer to the end than I thought._

"Oh, our blue-eyed friend is back in the world of the living!" Clay tried to lift his head, suddenly feeling like it weight two hundred pounds, and clenched his jaw to fight back the bile rising in his throat as the room spun. "Well, _mas o menos_...hey! We're not done with you yet, man! You can tell me all you want that you're just a tourist, but I am calling bullshit, so wake your ass up!"

No matter how hard he tried to comply, Clay couldn't gather the strength to move more than his eyes. The cartel thug in front of him became increasingly annoyed and started ranting in Spanish, but the blonde's mind was too sluggish to translate. A sudden _crack_ accompanied an explosion of agony in his left leg, which no longer bore his weight. His already-strained shoulder gave out with the lurch of added weight, and Clay lost his battle against throwing up.

Time stopped making sense after that. Any moment of awareness was overshadowed with black dots dancing across his vision, and anything that they might've been saying to him was completely lost. Every inch of his body was _pain_...his wrists, chafing from the shackles. His left shoulder, at least dislocated. His face, beat to hell. His abdomen, still leaking. His left leg, probably broken, right cramping from bearing his weight. It was a miracle that he was still conscious, let alone _breathing_.

The distorted sound of gunfire erupted around Clay, and lights flashed in his eyes. Shouts were abruptly cut off, and Mexican Marina camo filled the room. Sonny's face filled his field of vision, and Clay was sure he'd started to hallucinate again. "We've got you, brother...just hold on a little bit longer...gonna get you home...take you down first...gonna hurt…" His brother's voice kept cutting in and out, probably along with Clay's consciousness. Did that mean they were really there?

"So...Sonny...please...don't let Stella...blame herself," Clay breathed, breath catching as they moved him. Not a hallucination then...his brothers had really come for him. He knew they were bracing him to bring him down from the chains, but couldn't work up the strength to warn them about his potentially broken leg, so when they did ease him down and his foot touched the ground, the stab of pain sent him back into oblivion.


	3. Chapter 3

_The sight of the man she loved, chained from the ceiling and barely able to hold himself upright with blood coating his temple and right side, left Stella breathless. Even still, she knew that he _needed _her in that moment, so she steeled herself and stepped up until she was directly in front of him. Her trembling hand reached up to cradle the 'clean' side of his face. "You know the guys would never leave you behind. They'll come for you soon, baby...you've just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay?" Tears filled her eyes, slid down her cheeks. "Stay with me. I'm right here." She willed Clay to look up at her, to meet her eyes and let her know that he heard her. As he leaned his head into her hand, though, agony twisted his handsome features-_

Stella jerked awake with a gasping breath, fresh tears spilling over her lashes. The dream had been so _real_...it had felt as though Clay's too-warm skin was actually under her hand, smelled like the metallic blood that seemed to be staining his white t-shirt red too quickly. Just as had happened when she watched his abuse on the screen at the bar, Stella's stomach rebelled at the thought that this might be even close to reality for Clay and left her rushing for the bathroom.

Once she'd emptied the (meager) contents of her stomach and brushed her teeth, Stella glanced at her Fitbit to see that it was past 3am, and she knew here was no way she'd be getting back to sleep after that horror show of a nightmare. Instead, she padded quietly into the living room, torn between relief and despair when she saw the light on and Naima nursing her son. The older woman looked up at Stella's approach. The sad smile on her face let Stella know she'd heard her retching.

"Would you like something to settle your stomach?" Stella shook her head silently as she curled up in the corner of the couch, holding herself protectively. "I'm a bit surprised it took til the second night for you to have a nightmare. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Grateful that Naima gave her time to collect her thoughts, didn't comment on the seemingly unending silent tears, Stella knew that she needed to start leaning into the support of this woman and the other wives if she hoped to truly become part of the family. "I, uh...I had a dream about...about C-Clay being held captive." She stared at the sleeves of her sweater, pulled over her fingers out of nerves. "It just...it felt like it was real. It felt like I was standing right in front of him, begging him to hold on til the guys found him." Stella's breath hiccuped as she tried to keep herself calm. The last thing she wanted was to upset the baby when Naima had been kind enough to take care of her the last two days since Clay had been taken. "He was suffering so much, and there was nothing that I could do to make it any better." She looked up, desperate for comfort. "How do you handle this?"

The Kurdish woman looked pained for a moment. "This...being the fact that Clay has been taken hostage?" She nuzzled her infant, tears filling her own eyes. "This situation is rare, by the grace of God. We haven't _dealt_ with _this _before now. Injuries, separations, death...but never having one of the team become subject of a terrorist's ransom message. I don't know how to handle this kind of uncertainty, but I know that the worst thing would be for you to be alone through this."

"I don't deserve to be helped like this…I sent him out there heartbroken…"

"Don't go there, Stella," Naima insisted firmly. She gestured for the younger woman to wait, and disappeared to settle her son into his crib. When she returned, she settled onto the couch alongside Stella. "The men haven't been allowed to contact us since the video...we don't know what happened when he was taken. You can't take that responsibility on your shoulders. Especially having decided to commit to this life...you have to accept that there will be risks, that sometimes we will get into arguments and they will leave on less than ideal terms...but they are the best for a reason. They are trained for this under _any _circumstance." Her hand settled on Stella's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. "You tried to reach him, tried to tell him. And if I know our boys, which I _do_ pretty damn well, you'll get the chance to tell him soon enough. In the meantime...if you need to cry, you let yourself cry. If you need to get out of the house, let me know and I can either set up some time with the other wives, get a babysitter, or we can go out with the kids. But don't give up faith that Clay will come home."

Finally releasing the tenuous hold that she had on her emotions, Stella threw her arms around Naima's neck and allowed herself to sob and accept the comfort offered by the older woman.

* * *

Bravo Team hadn't been sure of what to expect when they finally breached the room where Doza's men were holding Clay, and when Sonny laid eyes on the younger man, he had all the drive he needed to take out any hostile that came across his scope. It didn't take long for the team to wipe out everyone except for their injured teammate: hanging from the ceiling, shackled, covered in blood and bruises, head drooped against his chest.

Sonny rushed forward, heart in his throat until he tore off his glove with his teeth and felt a faint pulse under his fingers. He took hold of the blonde's dirty face, desperate for any sign of consciousness. Fluttering eyelids gave the Texan hope. "Hey, we've got you, brother, just hold on a little bit longer." He leaned back enough to take in the growing bloodstain on his shirt, looked up to meet Trent's gaze. Grim worry stared back, and the unspoken directive was clear. "We're gonna get you home...but we've gotta take you down first. It's going to hurt, brother, but we're here, lean on us as much as you've gotta."

"So-Sonny…" Clay's weak voice barely made it past his lips, but Sonny listened as if it were the only sound in the room. "Please...don't let Stella...blame herself." Was the kid delusional? Why would Stella blame herself?

"We need to get him down, we can figure the rest out later," Ray murmured. "HAVOC this is Bravo Two. Bravo Six has been located and hostiles eliminated. I repeat, we have Bravo Six...but he's in bad shape. Have a medical team waiting at the helipad when we get back." Blackburn gave a concise response, but none of them paid him mind. Ray and Jason situated themselves on either side of the wounded SEAL, Brock stepped up behind him with bolt cutters, and they all nodded. Trent slid around Brock to support Clay from behind, but none of them were expecting the agonized cry and for him to drop like dead weight as soon as his feet were planted on the ground.

"Sonny, Brock get the litter ready," Trent commanded. As soon as it was laid out, he gestured for the team leaders to lay their youngest out on it, and began assessing Clay. "He's still alive, but we need to get him the hell out of here if we want him to stay that way." Bravo Four lifted the hem of Clay's shirt, and hissed sympathetically. "No wonder he's leaking so bad...looks like they stuck him with a serrated blade. This wound is a shredded mess." He applied a pressure bandage and grabbed Sonny's hand to keep it in place as the medic moved down to his left leg. "Broken. I need to brace it. He's also got a dislocated shoulder, same side..._dammit!_" He looked up to Jason. "Hold him down while I fix the dislocation?" Bravo One nodded solemnly, and Sonny found himself grateful that Clay was unconscious for all of this. The crack made all of them wince, and Sonny held his breath when the kid twitched, head lolling to the side.

"Stella…" he breathed before falling silent once more. Ray glanced up at Trent as the medic made quick work of the temporary splint from his kit.

"Okay, let's move, we need to get to exfil yesterday," Jason instructed as soon as Trent moved back. Sonny, Trent, Brock and Ray each took hold of the litter, and Bravo One provided cover until they made it to the waiting helicopter. The four carrying Clay eased him into the chopper, and startled when the previously-unconscious man lashed out with his unbroken leg and what probably would have qualified as a war cry if he'd been any stronger. "Easy!" Jason barked, jumping up into the Blackhawk behind Brock to press Clay's shoulders down. "Stand down, Spenser, you're safe."

Blue eyes stared up at the team leader, and Sonny found himself creeped out by the lack of recognition in his gaze...as though he were staring _through_ Jason rather than _at_ him. "Just a grad student, man…"

Jason knelt forward and held Clay's face in both of his hands, jostling him just enough for the younger man to finally blink up at him with clear - albeit agonized - eyes. "Hey, kid, you with me?" A weak nod. "I know you're hurting, brother, but we've got you. Try to relax so Trent can get as much done as he can while we're airborne." As soon as Clay stilled, the medic jumped up, followed by the rest of the team, and the pilot took off smoothly.

Sonny watched Trent work, swapping out saturated bandages and quickly applying new ones and periodically checking vitals. The increasingly grim look on the medic's face left a hollow pit in the Texan's stomach; the team had taken a hit when they'd lost Nate, but somehow this felt so much worse. Clay, in spite of the butting heads at the beginning, had thoroughly ingrained himself as an invaluable member of the team. He'd settled into his position as the 'Rookie', the 'kid'..._kid brother maybe_, Sonny lamented to himself as his eyes shifted to the younger man's face. The blood and bruises did little to make him seem older, and the familiar protective rage started to rise up all over again.

"HAVOC this is Bravo One, we made it to exfil and are Oscar Mike. Be ready, he's losing a lot of blood."

"Copy Bravo One, you guys just keep him breathing til you get here, docs'll take care of the rest." The forced confidence in Blackburn's voice made Sonny's skin crawl, but he knew that nothing their Commander said would've been enough. Nothing would be until they were able to stabilize Clay.

The rest of the flight was silent, each of the team members either lost in their own thoughts or busy fighting to keep their brother alive. The runners of the Blackhawk had barely touched down before they jumped out and cleared the way for the team of medics, ready and waiting as promised with a stretcher. The Mexican team took over for them seamlessly, calling for Trent to follow to provide information. The rest of Bravo lingered by the chopper, shock settling over them in the absence of active purpose. A hand landed heavily on Sonny's shoulder, and he turned to see Brock, pale and drawn, eyes still following the flurry of movement heading towards the medical wing's doors.

"Come, I will show you where you can get cleaned up and wait for news," General Garcia called, face sympathetic and patient as they slowly turned to face him. Blackburn, Mandy and Lisa hovered behind him, the women visibly distraught; Sonny imagined their collective stupor did nothing to ease their worry, let alone the blood that he was sure coated his own uniform as well as some of the others. "We will treat him as one of our own." Blackburn nodded his gratitude as Bravo team finally started moving, dutifully following the Mexican Marine leader. _Dammit, Clay, don't you dare go out like this..._


	4. Chapter 4

((All the tears over the brotherhood in this last episode...especially my BroTP. Ugh, they wrecked me. Pretty sure I'll be writing a follow-up of some kind since I doubt we'll get one on screen whenever our boys are back. Sorry this took so long and is so short, class started up again and has me all kinds of busy and tired, but I wanted to get _something_ out for you lovelies. Will probably actually be wrapping up in the next couple of chapters, so please let me know if there's anything else you want to see!))

* * *

By the time the rest of the team finished cleaning up, Trent was just coming into the waiting area and looked exhausted. "Spenser?" Jason asked hesitantly, not liking the look on his medic's face.

"He's as stable as he's going to get here." Blood streaked his cheek as he ran a hand down his face, and Trent clenched a trembling fist. "They don't have sufficient resources and infection is starting to set in...we've gotta to get him back to Virginia Beach if he's going to get the transfusion and meds that he needs."

Sonny resisted the urge to punch the nearest wall, and the entire team turned to Blackburn, who was already on the phone. Within minutes, everything was lined up to get them back to home and the team was packing up.

None of them spoke as one by one they made it to the tarmac, where their wounded brother was secured to a gurney with a bag of saline hanging from the IV pole. Trent was the last to arrive, taking a moment to clean himself up before exchanging information quietly with the Mexican doctor and shaking the man's hand. The team followed solemnly as the medic eased Clay into the plane. The flight was similarly quiet, everyone anxious to disturb Clay despite his ghost-like pallor and utter lack of movement since they'd seen him carted away upon arrival at the Mexican base.

"Any change?" Davis asked when Trent sat down near her after going through his fifth checkup. The SEAL sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. Davis rubbed his back, wishing there was more that she could do to help her boys.

"He's got a raging fever. The stab wound is infected, and the antibiotics they had to offer can't even come close to touching it. He won't wake up, the reset and splint job they did on his leg is mediocre at best...and none of this even touches what all of this has done to his mind. We have no idea how he's going to react when he wakes up..._if_ he wakes up."

Davis shook her head. "One step at a time, Sawyer. No jumping to conclusions, Spense is nothing if not stubborn."

"Landing soon. Medical crew is waiting, they'll get him taken care of," Blackburn murmured, approaching the team and gesturing for everyone to get secured.

Sonny settled in close to Clay's head, eyes never leaving the youngest member's face as they jostled. When the blonde man winced and gave a soft moan, Sonny reached out from his seat to squeeze Clay's bicep. "Almost home, brother...almost there. Just hang tight a little bit longer, you hear me?"

Just as when they'd made it to the Mexican base, the medical team was seamless in rushing Clay off the plane and away from the rest of Bravo team. Sonny lingered, staring at a small pool of blood that had gathered underneath the stretcher. "He's home...he's in the best possible hands right now." The Texan finally looked over at Lisa, seeing his fear reflected back in her eyes despite the reassurance in her voice.

"But will it be enough?" The soft voice of Bravo Two drew Sonny's attention, and he watched confusion and then firm resolution cross his features. "Ray?"

The man in question held up a placating hand. "I hear you, baby, but if Clay pulls through this, he's going to have to decide for himself if he is ready to see her. I'll call you when we know anything more." Ray sighed. "I'll be damned if we give up on him, but Naima...it doesn't look good. He's in a really bad way, and having to fly back home for the treatment he needs didn't help. We need to be with him...I'll call soon. I love you."

Sonny raised a questioning brow at Ray once he hung up, and the three finally deplaned together, several yards behind the others. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

"Stella ended things with Clay right before we shipped out...which explains a hell of a lot about why he was so quiet. But she'd apparently tried to call him to fix things the day that he was taken, but we were already out on recon. Naima picked her up the day the video was released, has been with her ever since."

Images flashed in his mind of Clay sending Sonny a half-hearted salute before shoving him back out of a building they'd just entered, a disconnected look in his eye as he made himself vulnerable to Doza's men in order to protect the rest of the team. Rage simmered in his chest. "She sent him out-"

"I know, brother," Ray assured, patting his shoulder. "But they're both young, new at this...like I told Naima, it'll be Clay's decision whether to let her back in." He gestured towards the hospital. "Let's go wait with the others to hear what's going to happen. I wanna make sure Trent gets cleaned up as soon as he's told to stand down." Sonny nodded, and Davis squeezed his arm affectionately to tug him along. They were met by Jason, Blackburn, Brock, and Ellis in the waiting room, and could do nothing but settle in for what they knew would be a long wait.

* * *

"He's home? He's safe?" Stella questioned as soon as Naima hung up the phone. The older woman tucked her cell into her purse and guided the blonde to a bench. "W-what is it?"

"The team found him and brought him home, but he is seriously hurt. They couldn't treat him in Mexico, so they flew him back to the hospital here. Ray couldn't talk for long, so that's all that I know."

Stella sensed hesitation in Naima's voice, watched her face closely, and felt fear tighten around her heart. "C-can we go wait with the team?"

"No, I'm sorry, Stell...it's got to be on his terms. If his health is as precarious as it sounds, we can't add on to his stress until we know he's able to handle it." She reached out and took Stella's hand, giving it a comforting and apologetic squeeze. "The team isn't handling this well either...I could hear it in Ray's voice; I don't know what happened to the men that took Clay, but no matter what they're still going to be looking for someone to lash out at...I don't want that to be you."

Despite the gentle tone, and the knowledge that Naima wasn't trying to make an accusation, the gravity of her words felt like a suckerpunch to the gut. Bravo Team would lash out at her because they _blame_ her, at least in part, for what happened to Clay. It wasn't as though she could argue...there had been enough self-loathing going on already, it only made sense that they'd come to the same conclusion if they knew what she'd done. Tears filled her eyes as the full weight of countless emotions crashed over her: relief that Clay had been found and was so far still alive, fear that he still might not make it, guilt that this was at least partly her fault...worry that even if Clay allowed her back into his life, the rest of Bravo wouldn't.

That, even if Clay forgave her, would be the true end of their relationship; if his brothers denied her, Clay would eventually be forced to choose between them, and she couldn't do that to him. She would, however, do whatever it took to earn their trust and acceptance, because she knew that they were part of Clay. She _respected_ them, their loyalty and protectiveness. Was grateful beyond words, because it was the reason he'd come home breathing...she only hoped they would give her a chance to learn from her mistake and prove that she wouldn't abandon him again.


	5. Chapter 5

A dull throb drew Clay back into consciousness, but it took several minutes to figure out that it originated from...well, everywhere. Whole left side of his body, middle...area of the right side of his body...face...there wasn't a particular spot that he could identify as not aching. 

Memories hit him abruptly, of noticing movement in the shadows as he cleared a room chasing Doza's right' hand man after he fled the courtyard, of pushing Sonny back to the relative safety of the street and surrendering himself to the dozen men waiting for them. The video...the brutal beating they'd given him despite his insistence that he didn't know anything. The agony of his leg being broken, and then...nothing. 

Forcing himself to remain still, Clay listened to his surroundings. When nothing stood out, he tested his ability to move, and felt panic threaten to seize him. Despite the pain, his left arm was utterly immobile, and his right wrist was definitely bound to something. Dammit. 

Voices filtered into wherever the hell he was, and Clay sank into his cover as he gave up on the pretense of unconsciousness. "Please-" A wracking cough cut him off, and fresh agony stole his breath for a moment. "I-I thought it was a restaurant...I don't know anything." 

Hands pressed against his chest, careful of his shoulders...the first sign that maybe he was missing something. "Stand down, Spenser...you're safe." 

Davis. Finally blinking against the bright lights above him, Clay took in the concerned face hovering above him and gave a relieved smile. "Lis-" Another round of coughing, and she was gently pressing a straw against his lips. 

"Easy, Clay, drink slow. Take a minute, get your bearings. We're back in Virginia." Clay looked down to see his left arm strapped firmly across his chest, likely to secure his dislocated shoulder. He did raise a questioning brow, though, when he looked down to see his right wrist secured to the bed. "This isn't the first time you woke up. First time you've woken up coherent enough to settle, though...you tore out your IV the first time trying to fight free before Sonny and Jase could hold you down and the doc could sedate you." 

After taking another long drink he nodded for her to take the cup away. "How long has it been? Where are the guys?" Man, his throat was like sandpaper. 

Lisa grinned wryly as she pressed the call button. "It's been five days since you were taken, two since we made it back to Virginia. The guys are at Command...getting a dressing down for going in after you I'm sure. Not that any of them care, Blackburn has already gone to bat for them, so they will probably just be confined to base for a while."

Both turned their attention to the soft knock at the door. "Hello there, SO1 Spenser, it's good to see you alert. My name is Kelly. How are you feeling?" A petite brunette walked in, clipboard in hand, and glanced at Lisa. 

"Please, call me Clay." The nurse nodded with a kind smile. "I've been better, that's for sure...she's fine to stay if she doesn't feel like getting up, swear she knows more about any of us than we know about ourselves." He winked over at his friend, who seemed to visibly relax at his joke. "Everything hurts, not gonna lie...shoulders are both on fire...left moreso than right…" 

"I can give you some stronger meds for that-" 

"No, I'd rather not be hazy…"

"Clay," Lisa interrupted gently. "You're home, you're safe, and I'm not going anywhere until the boys are back at the very least. Take the relief." 

Kelly looked between them. "How about I give you just enough to take the edge off without affecting your alertness? And when you're comfortable and ready to sleep, we'll up the dosage then. Sound fair?" Clay relented with a nod, and remained silent as the nurse took his vitals, removed the strap from his right wrist, and checked his stitches. Once she was finished, the nurse glanced shyly at the SEAL. "Numbers are heading in the right direction, Clay. Maybe once you're healed up we could grab a drink?" 

A sad smile tugged at the man's lips as images of another beautiful brunette, this one encouraging him to hold on during his darkest moments, crossed his mind. "I appreciate that, Kelly...but I'm not in a good place for that right now." She nodded and excused herself. 

Lisa watched the blonde man rest his head back against the pillow with a tired sigh. "Did you know that Stella tried to call you the day that you were taken?"

He winced at the mention of her name, gentle though it'd been. He was too tired to mask his surprise. "N-no...we, uh...we split up right before shipping out. She'd dodged my first couple of calls when we got to Mexico." 

"She must've called right after you left for the mission...was trying to make things right. She's been with Naima since the…" Davis cleared her throat, looked away for a moment before continuing. "Since the video was released." Clay felt a twist in his chest at the thought of Stella seeing what he'd been through. Lisa stood and approached the bed, settling her hand over Clay's uninjured arm. "I've kinda taken over keeping in touch with Stella instead of Naima having to be the go-between for the guys. They are...less than thrilled with her over what happened before we left, but I can see things closer to her perspective. I've been stuck miles away and unable to do a damn thing as you, Jason and Trent went down in a chopper. I have a little bit of a clearer understanding of what it feels like to be on her side of things." Watching Clay's conflicted reaction, Lisa squeezed his bicep and shrugged. "Maybe I wouldn't have been so quick to forgive her...lapse of judgment if she weren't so consistent in checking in since the moment the team got you back. She's following your lead, though, Clay...if you don't want to see her again, she'll back off." 

The wounded SEAL stared up at Lisa for a long moment, processing everything she'd said; that Stella had wanted to fix things before he'd been taken hostage...and still wanted to be with him even after what he considered to be the worst scenario she could've endured as his girlfriend. "I...I need to see her...talk to her before I make any decisions." Lisa grinned. "But I need to talk to the others first." 

"What you need to do first is rest. The team will probably be another couple of hours. You're still healing, Clay...I don't know how much you remember, but we came really close to losing you. It's going to take time to bounce back from this, so don't push it, do you understand me?"

The SEAL couldn't help his smirk, even as he lost the fight to keep his eyes open. Damn, if this woman doesn't have some magical powers that bend us to her will, he thought. "Aye aye, ma'am." 

The last thing he saw before falling asleep was the affectionate grin on her face as she settled back into the chair near the door.

* * *

"C'mon, Ken Doll, Davis already gave you up, open those pretty blues, you've had enough time to sleep." The gruff voice that dragged Clay back from his slumber was accompanied by light pats on the cheek, and the young SEAL flinched away with a grimace. 

"Really, Sonny?" Trent growled. As Clay opened his eyes, the medic was tugging Sonny away from the bed. 

"I didn't touch any of the bruises, but you can't tell me you aren't itchin' to see him awake and talkin' just as much as I am." When Sonny caught Clay's gaze, the Texan lit up. "There he is! Welcome back to the world of the living, GQ!" 

"You wanna take it down a notch, Son?" Clay mumbled, turning his eyes to the rest of his room. The entirety of Bravo Team was scattered around him: Sonny and Trent standing at his right side, Brock and Cerberus next to Lisa by the door, Jason and Ray to his left. 

"Sorry the caveman can't keep quiet to save his life," Lisa offered with a regretful smile. Clay grinned back with a wink.

"How are you feeling, Kid?" Jason asked, voice soft.

"Like hell," he answered. "What's the damage for going rogue?"

The Team Leader shrugged. "Couple weeks restricted to base, which is fine because it's about how long you'll be stuck in here anyway." Jason watched his youngest team member quietly for a moment. "Before you ask, cause I know you will, Charlie team is taking over the hunt for Doza." 

Clay nodded his gratitude, chose not to respond to the fact that he'd be confined to this room for two whole weeks. "Thanks for coming after me." 

Brock snorted. "Like not bringing you home was even an option." 

"The only reason the cake-eaters gave us any hell is because we didn't wait for their green light, couldn't be made to look like fools for not responding faster," Ray added. 

The injured SEAL fidgeted for a moment, wishing that he could move his left arm - or leg...that he could find some kind of comfortable position as he prepared for what he was sure would be an uncomfortable conversation. He settled for raising the head of his bed so that he could at least be sitting up. "Hey, guys...I'm going to ask Stella to come by...to talk." Sonny opened his mouth to retort, but Clay held up his good hand, limited thought the movement was by his IVs. "I know that you guys aren't happy with what happened...but this is between me and her. I don't know if I'm going to let her back in or not…" He took a breath, both for rest and to steel himself for whatever arguments they might give. "But I am asking that you trust my judgment, whatever I decide." 

"She let you deploy fresh off a breakup, and look at what happened," Sonny insisted, his hands grasping at the bedrail and tightening. When Clay looked up at him, the Texan was staring at the floor. When he spoke again, guilt softened his tone. "You took a stupid risk…" 

Clay wrapped his fingers around Sonny's wrist and waited until the older man met his eyes to respond. "I recognized a threat to my team and a chance to protect my brothers. I was first in the door, I looked most like just another tourist...I knew things wouldn't have gone well if they were able to grab anyone else. Breakup or not, I would do the exact same thing in any circumstance. Stella had nothing to do with it." He squeezed until Sonny nodded his understanding, and then Clay glanced around to make sure the others heard him as well. "I would gladly lay down my life for you, and I know you would do the same. What happened with Stella...she tried not to have the conversation before we left. I was the one who wouldn't let it go until she told me what was bothering her. It was just as much her fault as it was mine…" 

"We'll follow your lead, Spense. It's not an easy life...we don't always get it right the first time around. If this didn't scare her off...not really sure what would," Jason assured. The rest of the team nodded their agreement, albeit reluctantly on Sonny's part. "Just be sure she's back for the right reasons." 

Davis stood with a genuine smile. "I'll give her a call. Looks like it's time for you boys to clear out." She hesitated for a moment. "Brock, you grabbed Clay's stuff when we left Mexico, right? Can you bring his laptop in here, give him something to do while he waits for her to get here?" Clay narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, before he remembered her comment about the call he'd missed before being taken.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Clay was alone in the hospital room, laptop resting across his knees as he pulled up the video message that he'd never gotten to see. He watches as the face of the woman he loved changed from forced optimism to guilt, tears filling her eyes as she apologized for hurting him and asked for the chance to fix it.

"I was so stupid for waiting so long to call you after Naima talked some sense into me the day you guys deployed." The blonde SEAL looked up to see Stella leaning against the doorframe, eyes red and watery. She refused to look anywhere but his face. "I knew within a few hours what I was going to do...but I was too embarrassed. Maybe if I'd called sooner, things would've been different…" A tear slid down her cheek, and Clay closed the laptop with his good hand.

"Stella, what happened wasn't because of us breaking up. What happened was because I needed to protect my team...my brothers. I would've done it no matter how things were with us." He hesitated, knowing that this would be the defining moment for them. "That's not something that will ever change, Stell. It's my job to protect them, and I will do that with my dying breath if I have to."

Fresh tears dripped to the ground as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I...I know," she murmured, voice surprisingly certain. When she returned her eyes to his, determination shone through. Hesitant steps brought her to his right side, and when he canted his head towards her, she sat gingerly on the bed near his hip. Clay refused to break her stare, reading every shifting emotion as it crossed her face, and instinctively laced their fingers when her hand settled over his. Stella sobbed, and the vice grip around his heart eased. "I love you for your devotion to your brothers, Clay. I would never want that to change...and I'm sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise. Bravo is your family...they're part of you. I regret giving up even a second of time being with you out of the fear of what might happen...but it's shown me that I need to make the most of what time we do have together...to be grateful for every moment we are given together, and support you through every step, good or bad."

Clay smiled softly at her, squeezing her fingers. "If we do this again...I have to warn you, the guys are going to be hard on you for a while, until they feel confident you're here for good." Hope swelled in his chest at her responding look of tenderness and the warmth of her hand against his cheek.

"I would expect nothing less from the men who watch your back in life and death situations, as well as every other facet of your life. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to prove to them that I'm not going to let my fear drive me away from you ever again." She stared into his eyes for a long moment. "Are you willing to give me a chance to make things right?"

In lieu of responding verbally, Clay eased his hand around her waist and tugged her close to press his lips against her. Finally, he was home. Finally, he was whole again. This woman, who'd already proven time and again that she belonged in his world, had come back to him even after the next worst thing to him actually being killed in action...and he would make damn sure she wouldn't run again. If her response to his kiss was any indicator, that wouldn't be an issue; the SEAL drew back with a low hiss when they got too caught up in the moment, and she bumped his injured arm.

"Shit, sorry, I'm so sorry…" Her hands hovered over his shoulders, wanting to fix it but not knowing what was safe to touch. Clay chuckled at her and kissed her again briefly, wanting to assure her that he was okay. Stella sat back, now serious, eyes tracing every visible bruise and cut, the bandages and outline of his casted leg beneath his bedsheet. "When that video came on…" He cradled her face when her lower lip began to quiver, and she leaned into his touch. "I was out at the bar, and it didn't even connect at first that it could be you. One of the others, maybe...but my mind didn't even let me process the possibility that it would be you. I've never been so scared...and then Naima called me, within minutes. Even knowing we'd broken up, not knowing I'd changed my mind...she didn't give me a choice, I wasn't going to be alone while you were gone. I don't know how I would've  
handled everything without her and the other wives."

Clay made a mental note to thank Naima for calling Stella out when she'd needed it, and being the support she needed and never would've felt comfortable asking for. "Ray's got himself a special lady, and I'm glad she was there when you needed her most." Idly twirling a strand of brunette hair around his finger, the blonde took in her beautiful face and once again remembered when it had come to him in his darkest moment. "You know, while they had me...there was a point where I hallucinated that you were with me." She tensed under his touch but didn't respond, so he continued. "You encouraged me to hold on, reminded me that the guys wouldn't give up. It gave me strength, got me through til they showed up." The sudden tears streaming down her face startled Clay, and he narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I...I had a nightmare the second day after you were taken...that I was with you. I could smell the blood…" 

The meaning behind her words tightened his chest, and he couldn't help a grin. "My very own guardian angel. Hey," he waited until she met his eyes again. "I'm home, I'm safe, and most importantly, you're here with me. I love you, Stella; getting over this is going to royally suck on many levels, but I know that we'll get through it together."


	6. Chapter 6

"Okay, are you sure you're still comfortable, babe?" Stella asked softly, leaning over him on the bed. Clay gazed up at her, unimpressed. Even though he'd been released to go home, switching confinement from one bed to another did nothing to help his cabin fever. "You have been home all of three hours, don't give me that look. I'm going to make some lunch for you and Sonny, I'm just making sure you don't need anything so you're not trying to get up while I'm in the kitchen. I'll bring your next round of meds with your food."

"Sorry," the blonde murmured, sufficiently chastised. "I'm good, Stell. Just looking forward to the day I can get this sling and cast off, and these damn stitches out. I can't get comfortable to save my life, and basically being an invalid is for the friggin' birds."

Stella combed her fingers through his curls and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "I know...I can't imagine how much you're going crazy being stuck in bed, but the more you push yourself the longer it'll take to get back out with the team. I'll be back in a minute." Clay nodded, and Stella headed out into the kitchen, smiling warmly at Sonny sprawled on the couch snoring.

In the week since Clay had welcomed her back, the team had slowly involved her more in the planning for his recovery as she regained their trust, though Sonny had been the toughest egg to crack. It wasn't until the Texan had walked in on her snapping at Clay about easing up on the rest of the team for their reservations about her that Sonny seemed to finally accept that she was back for good; she knew part of his anger towards her had stemmed from his own misplaced guilt, and it felt good to earn his trust in spite of everything. For the man to be sleeping spoke volumes. The rest of Bravo was grounded for the time being, and had established a rotation for staying with Clay at all times. Stella herself had taken leave from school, and was able to be with him consistently (much to the dismay of her parents, who had been quick to say 'I told you so' when she'd finally answered their calls following the hostage video) to help his teammates keep him off his feet.

Quietly as she could, Stella began gathering supplies for sandwiches. She'd just started setting everything up when she was startled into dropping the lunchmeat by heavy pounding at the door. Sonny was on his feet in an instant, gun raised as though it had been in his hand the entire time he'd been sleeping. Without a word the older man glance back and gestured for her to go to Clay, and she complied immediately. Her boyfriend was, unsurprisingly, trying to push himself up with his less-injured shoulder. Stella closed the door behind her with a sigh.

"Lay back down, this is why the guys are on rotation. Sonny's handling it."

The sight that greeted him when he opened the door sparked anger in Sonny's gut, and the fact that the man tried to shove past him - completely ignoring the _gun_ aimed at his face - had the Texan ready to pull the trigger just for spite. Steeling himself against Ash Spenser's attempt to come into the apartment, Sonny smoothly tucked the gun away with one hand and planted a hand on Ash's chest with the other. "Uh uh, I don't think so." The gray-haired man tried to smack his hand away unsuccessfully, indignance burning in his eyes.

"You are going to let me see my son or-"

"Or _what_ exactly, Ashland? I really hope you don't think you actually _intimidate_ me...no way in hell am I letting you in this apartment without Clay's all-clear." Without another word, Sonny shoved the man backwards and shut the door, bolting it as Ash started pounding on it again. The Texan growled under his breath; they'd all known it was only a matter of time before the elder Spenser showed up, he just hadn't expected it to be within _hours_ of Clay being released from the hospital. Shaking his head, Sonny pulled out his phone and sent a text to Jason before heading into Clay's room with a soft knock.

Stella was sitting next to him, hand on his clavicle to keep the younger man back against the pillows. Both looked up, Clay's face paler than he'd seen it in days. "What's up, Sonny?"

"What's up is that you need to relax before you pull a stitch, you're startin' to look whiter than that sheet. Daddy dearest is here, didn't take too kindly to me tellin' him he wasn't allowed in. I texted Jase, he should be on his way and I'm sure he'll get the others here too, considering how much of a fuss Ash is gonna kick up."

Clay dropped his head back against the headboard with a sigh. "He's not going to leave until you let him in, Son...might as well get it over with." Once again he tried to sit up, and once again Stella stopped him.

"Sonny's right, babe, just the effort of trying to sit up has drained you. You need _rest_, and that's the last thing your father will let you have. Let your team handle him." She smiled affectionately when he had to visibly work to keep his eyes open, proving her point and forcing him to obey. "Stop fighting it. _Sleep_," she insisted, nails skimming along his scalp again in a soothing manner. The SEAL sank into the mattress involuntarily, weakness and her ministrations stealing away any remaining hold he had on consciousness.

"Well damn, teach, I'll have to remember that for future use...never seen him rack out so fast," Sonny teased lightly, ignoring the faint sound of Ash knocking again.

Stella chuckled, settling Clay into a more comfortable position. "First of all, if you ever attempt that and it works, I do _not _want to hear a word about it. Second of all, pretty sure that was more his body telling him enough was enough than it had anything to do with me." Sonny gave her a skeptical look in response.

Jason Hayes turned the corner to Clay's apartment fighting to maintain his calm; he'd heard more than enough about his youngest teammate's father over the years, both as the disgraced former SEAL who wrote a book, and as the man that left Clay with intense daddy-issues. It shouldn't have been surprising that he'd show up on his son's doorstep...but the Bravo Team leader wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the man rationally after how close they'd come to losing Clay.

When his eyes landed on Ash Spenser in person for the first time, a rush of protectiveness hit him like a Mack truck. The older man turned at the sound of his steps, face already flush with rage.

"Let me see my son. _Now_." Well at least they didn't need introductions, if the man assumed his connection to Clay before Jason had even approached.

"Now is not a good time, getting him home has taken a lot out of him." Jason crossed his arms over his chest and straightened to his full height. Ash cowered subtly, but refused to budge from the door. "How, exactly, did you _know_ he is home? His rescue wasn't made public knowledge, let alone the fact that he'd been brought back Stateside, or released from the hospital for that matter." He made a mental note to bring this to Blackburn's attention. "I know for a fact that none of my team contacted you."

"How can you be so sure of that?" the elder Spenser questioned smugly. Jason clenched his hand under his arm to keep himself from punching the smirk off his face.

"Because we believe in something called _loyalty_, and doing whatever it takes to protect our own. Where Clay is concerned, that includes keeping _you_ the hell away from him while he heals." He uncrossed his arms and stepped into Ash's space, satisfied by the way the man flinched back in to the door. "Let's not pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that Clay was the subject of a POW ransom video. After all, where were you when he was in a helo crash, or took a sniper round to the chest and lost his mentor in the same night? Couldn't be bothered to go out of your way to check on him then, could you?" He shook his head, wondering if his words were even making a difference. "You don't get to come around and suddenly play caring father because your son was on television."

Ash became almost purple at his words, and attempted to rise to Jason's challenge. "You know what? _Fuck you_ Hayes. Where were _you_ when all of this happened to my son? What exactly did _you _do to stop those cartel assholes from taking him in the first place?"

"I was in the helo _with _him, and Clay saved my life," Jason snapped, prepared to go to battle until the door opened behind Ash and Sonny slipped out into the hallway.

"Keep it the hell down, would you?!" he hissed, coming alongside Jason against the elder Spenser. "Your son was taken while defending his brothers, and nearly died to protect his country. Now," he growled, eyes flashing with the dare to argue, "his _real_ family is going to get him back on his feet."

Ash stared between the two, a growl rumbling in his chest. His attention was drawn away from the SEALs in front of him, though, and Jason smirked. The door directly behind him opened and he felt Derek's imposing presence at his back, while the remaining members of Bravo (Davis included) rounded the corner together, Ray carrying a case of beer, Davis and Trent with bags of groceries and Brock keeping a loose grip on Cerberus' lead.

"As I said, now is not a good time," Jason repeated firmly. Ash opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again when Clay's door opened.

All eyes turned to see the too-pale, hunched-over blonde subject of their argument, better arm around Stella's shoulder and the brunette's hand braced against his chest to keep him upright. Clay seemed surprised to see everyone at his door. Finally the elder Spenser deflated, recognizing that he was hopelessly outnumbered...and that Jason Hayes was ultimately right. It was clear that his son was surrounded by far better family than he'd ever had in the past. "It's good to see you safe, son. I'll leave you and your team to it." Cerberus growled as Ash sulked away.

As soon as they were sure that Ash was gone, the entire team rounded on Clay to reprimand him for being out of bed with only Stella to keep him upright. "What the hell, Spense?" Trent chastises, passing his bags to Stella and taking her place smoothly as Clay's support. "If you tore any stitches, I'm gonna kick your ass. Let's go, on the couch...give you _some_ change of scenery from staring at a ceiling all day." Jason bumped fists with Derek, giving him a thankful smile, before joining the rest of the team in the apartment. They moved around the apartment as they did on missions - like a well-oiled machine. Even Stella and Davis maneuvered with the rest of the guys seamlessly; Trent had Clay propped on the couch with a chair at his feet, shirtless and bandage pulled back for inspection. Sonny and Davis prepped snacks while Brock and Stella brought in extra pillows and chairs so that everyone could settle in for a movie night.

As he stood leaning against the door for a moment, Jason thought back on the fear and rage at seeing their youngest beaten for the world to see, of the vengeance the team wrought when they found him, of the relief when the doctor said that he would make a full recovery and eventually be back to full fighting strength. The blonde in question met his eyes, and Jason watched several emotions pass through those baby blues: distress over the presence of his father, exhaustion over pushing himself too hard, relief over the rallying presence of his team, his brothers, Stella...gratitude that they stood alongside him, in _front _of him against the man that had caused him so much pain in his lifetime. Their gaze was broken when Stella tucked herself in next to Clay, opposite Trent, and drew her boyfriend's attention. She rested her forehead against his for a long moment, murmuring something softly to him and earning a tired smile and tender kiss in response.

"Yo, Jay, you just gonna stand there like a creeper or you gonna help bring the snacks in?" Sonny called, winking when the team leader looked over to him. Jason complied silently, and the team took their places in a protective circle around Clay. As the beginning credits rolled, Jason glanced over to see him fast asleep between Trent and Stella, head resting on her shoulder and their fingers loosely tangled together.


End file.
